


The Heart of the Wolf

by inadistantworld



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fade Sex, I'm Bad At Tagging, Light Dom/sub, Pro Mage Inquisitor, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inadistantworld/pseuds/inadistantworld
Summary: “I must admit that I am surprised the Dalish, as superstitious as they are, would name a child ‘the one who has the heart of a wolf’. Do they not see it as an invitation for their feared Dread Wolf to find his way to you? Is it not a challenge to their bad omen? Welcoming someone thought to be an unwelcome guest?”“I can’t speak for those who named me, but perhaps we are not as superstitious as you believe. Perhaps it is even what they wanted. Perhaps they wished me to draw the Dread Wolf in, perhaps they meant for me to make him fall in love with me, to have his heart and change him for the better. Or maybe it is more literal. Maybe it is a threat. That I will be the one who will cut his heart out myself. To warn him to stay away from my clan or I will bring him down. Maybe it was never meant that my heart is like a wolf’s, but that is it the heart of The Wolf that is mine.”Or how a girl named Fen'an stole the Dread Wolf's heart in more ways than one.





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this idea for a long time but didn't really want to post it but I don't think I'll ever finish it if I don't.  
> Some stuff that doesn't seem like it can really be tagged?? The first half is going to follow what could be canon, I get a lot of quotes and stuff straight from the game (Obviously I don't own the characters or some of the lines or the world or anything) but I also expand a lot on scenes and add lines of my own and stuff, I just figured that the first half would do best if it followed how I played it closely. And the second half will be post trespasser and I have some ideas for it but it isn't totally plotted out yet, but in general I know what's gonna be happening and hopefully it goes well?  
> Also this is probably not how the fade works but it's fiction so I'm working really hard on trying not to care so please don't make it harder and tell me how it works in the comments.  
> That being said I like constructive criticism and hearing what you guys think. So I hope you guys enjoy this I guess

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live.”

Her heart fluttered against her will. He was not her type, especially considering the situation. There was a tear in the sky that demons poured out of and here stood a strange man she had never seen before. All things considered, her heart should not be fluttering, even without the extreme danger she would never have guessed being attracted to such a man. She had always imagined men with hair that she could tangle her fingers in while they kissed, hair that led to more exciting places on the body, broad shoulders, rough voices. It wasn’t exactly easy to find amongst the Dalish, but most of them had hair at least on their heads. And yet, standing before this man, she wondered if he was smooth all over, if his voice ran like silk all the time or if it became harsher as he—Oh no. They were all staring, how long had she been entrapped in thoughts that barely even seemed like her own?

“Me too,” she rushed out. He chuckled and stared at her with the amusement of a wolf that sees a rabbit carelessly straying too close to him, “My name if Fen’an,” she added, which seemed to be a better introduction than agreeing that she was happy to still be alive.

His lips curved into the slightest smile and suddenly she saw that smirk from above her as she knelt on the forest floor. And with that knowing grin still gracing his face, his hand tangled in her short red hair, and—

“I must admit that I am surprised the Dalish, as superstitious as they are, would name a child ‘the one who has the heart of a wolf’. Do they not see it as an invitation for their feared Dread Wolf to find his way to you? Is it not a challenge to their bad omen? Welcoming someone thought to be an unwelcome guest?” He teased.

She blinked. It had all been so real. She could still feel where he had tugged her hair, knew the warmth of the dappled sunlight that fell through the trees, she even smelled wildflowers on the breeze. “I can’t speak for those who named me, but perhaps we are not as superstitious as you believe. Perhaps it is even what they wanted.” She said, still in a daze, she wasn’t even sure her words made any sense.

The shock passed through his eyes so quickly that she doubted the reality of that as well, “What do you mean by that?”

She shrugged, “Perhaps they wished me to draw the Dread Wolf in, perhaps they meant for me to make him fall in love with me, to have his heart and change him for the better. Or maybe it is more literal. Maybe it is a threat. That I will be the one who will cut his heart out myself. To warn him to stay away from my clan or I will bring him down. Maybe it was never meant that my heart is like a wolf’s, but that is it the heart of The Wolf that is mine.”

He was no longer smirking and seemed to be deep in thought. “Perhaps.” He said slowly.

“Enough of your elf talk, we’ve got demons popping out of that hole like babies from one of the girls from The Blooming Rose,” the dwarf, Varric, interrupted.

“He is right. We will speak later.” A promise, no, a command. Fen’an was lucky Solas had turned around and followed the others, jumping over the obstacle in their path, because she couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through her.

 

Solas hadn’t even thought to turn and watch what his demand had done to her. Perhaps in another time he would have continued to see just how much he could do to her before she broke and begged for him. But this was not that time. He had wondered why he had even shown her those images, pressed those thoughts upon her, it was a game for a younger self, not for his world now and he could feel the strain on his powers by doing so. But even so, he found himself toying with her. Until she had spoken about her name.

He wondered which way should would try to steal his heart. Deep in his gut, he felt unease, as if a small part of him doubted if he would be able to stop her should she try. But his heart had remained his for this long, and he would not fall to one such as her.

 

Though she was a mage, Solas found himself wondering if she truly understood the best way to go about using her magic. She did not hang back as well as she could have, perhaps she was not in the thick of things with Cassandra, but often times she was forced to use the hard butt of her staff to beat back a demon before bringing a bolt of lightning upon them. Certainly someone must have explained how to best utilize her magic, but she seemed to be incapable of following such rules.

“Why must you insist on running forward like this?” Solas finally asked, exasperated while she downed her first health potion. She was covered in blood, some her own and some not, and while he had wondered before how she had gotten the scars on her face, one that started from almost her hairline and came down as far as her nose, going through her right eye, and the other that went from just below her bottom lip to her chin. He wondered what healing went into the deep scars, how she had defended against the one at her eye, if they had come from the same event of separate occasions. He wondered if she had more scars he couldn’t see. But he had no doubt that whatever the stories of the scars, they came from reckless fighting such as this.

“If I stay back with you and Varric, who will back Cassandra up?” She asked, cocking her head to the side. He believed her lucky that Cassandra was too far ahead to hear such a thing. “And even if she had someone else to help her, I cannot see the battle as clearly. I cannot help as much. If I am wounded, then I am wounded, but I am able to help my allies more from there, even if only to draw attention from them and to act as a target.”

He could not find anything to say to that, he was too surprised at the utter disregard for her own safety in the mere chance that it helped people who still believed her to be the cause of the evil around her. But he didn’t need to say anything, because she once again took off running after Cassandra, her staff in hand as she brought a ring of fire from the ground around Cassandra’s nearest attacker, ignoring the demon lurching toward her.

As if he his arm acted on his own, his staff hit the ground and the demon froze just inches from Fen’an, allowing her to use her staff as a club once again. He placed a protective ward on her to absorb some of the attacks, at least for a short while. And he watched her strange style of fighting that included placing herself in the most danger she could get in, only to draw at least some attention from Cassandra.

Oddly enough, he hadn’t seen anything work quite so stunningly. While in complete peril at all times, she was also tearing down more demons that Cassandra could even get her hands on. Of course she did not come away unharmed all the time, but she did come away the victor, and she didn’t seem to care about the details.

However, the Pride Demon was a bigger threat than the others they had faced so far. And while he would never risk calling her weak, she was not one who would take that well, he didn’t believe that she could go up against such a beast easily.

And watching the battle, he knew he was right. She stood just beside the great tear into the Fade and disrupted it when she could to bring the demon to his knees. Demons began surrounding her, but she hardly paid them any mind, only doing enough to keep them from killing her where she stood. If he had to guess, she would have told him the Pride Demon was a threat to everyone and these small demons were only a threat to her.

And it angered him. Angered him enough to think about all the things he would say to her, how stupid she was, how reckless she was, she was the only one who could close these damned rifts so who did she think she was to throw her life into peril like this? He thought of entire speeches he would give her when she got out of this alive. Of course, that required her to actually live through this. And so instead of focusing on the demon, he focused on her. Casting a protection spell around her and only her, killing the demons that attacked her, keeping others at bay.

And his lack of focus on the Pride Demon was the problem. If he had paid more attention, perhaps he could have stopped it.

A whip made of arcing electricity slapped down on Fen’an, stunning her and making her step back. He took just a few large steps to close the distance, getting ready to slam his fist down onto the small woman, and her staff was lit with flames. She hit his legs with it, about the only thing she could reach, and Solas tried to freeze him before it happened, but it barely seemed to slow him down.

“ _Fen’an!”_ Her name ripped from Solas’ lips and he sprinted toward her without even considering the enemy.

Luckily he didn’t have to, it seemed her last blow, one of her favorite ring of flames, brought him to his knees at the same time that he took her down.

He skid to a stop and dropped to his knees, his hands hesitating in the air, not sure where to touch her, not sure what to do now.

She coughed and her eyes slowly opened, she stared up at him and a sly smile crossed her face, “We barely even know each other and you’re already screaming my name, I see,” her voice was hoarse and she winced as her fingers touched her side, feeling for the damage.

He scoffed, probably making a noise close to the ones Cassandra made when Varric told a dirty joke, and said, “I was simply concerned for your life. You rush into battle without thought on how you will survive it, and if you hadn’t noticed we are relying solely on you at this point. Should you die, who would we move onto for help?” He stood and brushed the dirt from his clothes.

“Of course,” but that smile never left her face. She started to sit up but groaned in pain, and as much as Solas wanted to act like he hadn’t heard, he leaned down and grabbed under her arm and lifted her up with ease. She draped an arm around his neck, using him for support, and shakily raised her left hand and he watched as a green line connected her to the rift once again.

 

When she woke, whispers followed her throughout Haven.

“She’s the one.”

“She stopped the hole in the sky from growing.”

“The Herald of Andraste.”

That last one made her snicker. Herald to a human god? An elf? She had seen many unbelievable things, she’d seen many of those things in the last few days (Three days, as it turned out. She’d been unconscious for three whole days), but she’d never seen an elf in any position of power with humans around to stop it. It was something that simply would not be.

As it turned out, though, it was. When she walked into the War Room, there they all stood, asking questions, attacking, defending, calling her the Herald of Andraste, saying this and that, and then when they finally asked her what she thought, all she said was, “I’m an elf,” as if that enlightened the situation.

Though it’s not like they listened, despite reminding them of her very pointy ears, they called her what they liked and then, turning to her as if she knew how to do anything other than continuously _fuck up_ they told her to meet with some old woman who preached their human religion because humans listen to other humans and they believed they needed the humans support (though she wondered if there had ever been an instance where including more humans had helped the situation instead of just getting people killed or enslaved. She couldn’t think of one). Of course she pretended to be eager, wanting to help, but the truth was that she was still very confused. So she had a glowy green thing on her hand, but she was still just another elf. There was no reason to suddenly push the fate of this Inquisition or whatever onto her.

When her meeting finally came to a close, she wandered. Leliana was apparently doing some scouting mission out there already, they were just waiting on a message back saying it was safe for a small group to meet them.

She found Solas, standing outside with his hand on his chin as he looked up at the sky. And after dealing with humans that made no sense, she could use some familiarity. Leliana promised to get word to her clan, but even so, she felt a pang in her chest at the thought of them. This was her first time away from them and it was already spiraling far out of control.

 

“How would you stop them?” He asked when Fen’an simply stated that she would protect him should Templars come for him.

“However I had to,” and there was fire there, a promise, not simply something one says because it suits the time. It shocked him, he was unable to hide it.

“Thank you,” he said after a moment and she nodded, leaving the conversation until later. He stayed in the cold for a while after that, pondering her words.

“What a strange woman,” he said after a while, smirking as he said so.

 

She came back later that day, after talking to Haven’s inhabitants to make sure they had what they needed and looking for old notes and logging sites around Haven. Solas wondered where she found the energy to do so much. She hardly ever rested, but perhaps it was for the best. Someone who had this much say in the future of the world couldn’t exactly afford to be lazy.

But this time he did not lead the conversation. Instead she asked question after question, about him and the Fade.

“Indomitable focus?” She asked, a playful glint in her eyes. Silver for most of it and a gold ring around the pupil. They reminded him of his past, he’d known many with eyes like those before. The words had slipped from his lips while he was staring deeply into them, not thinking about the conversation or what it would sound like.

But instead of explaining away, he played along with her. It could not hurt, not to just hint and toy, “Presumably. I have yet to see it dominated, I imagine that sight would be…fascinating.”

She hummed in agreement, eyes lingering as they looked him up and down. It seemed he did not need to encourage any thoughts this time.

She didn’t continue that though, instead she moved on to her next question, but the mischief and quiet desire never left her eyes as they spoke.

 _Just a little game_ , he told himself, _Nothing more than that._

It was when Fen’an mentioned that she had been her Keeper’s First that a new tier to their game occurred to him.

“You had wished to become a Keeper?” He asked casually, licking his lips almost unconsciously.

She nodded, “I didn’t have much of a choice technically, those with magic become Keepers. But I wanted to as well. With a name like mine, and with this idea that perhaps it is a dare to the Dread Wolf himself, I thought it was my duty in a way. To defend my clan. Growing up, it had been one of the few real dreams I had. I always imagined Fen’Harel coming to my clan and trying to cause ruin, and I always beat him back, always saved the day. In a way, it seems I got my wish. People look to me as if I am their Keeper, even if it is something far worse than Fen’Harel. At least he can be beaten, I don’t even know where to begin on the Breach.”

He almost laughed. As if he would have taken interest in her little clan, let alone to destroy it, that had never been his wish.

But if it had been hers, perhaps he could give it to her.

 

He knew the harm, the dangers, but at the same time, the pieces that remained of his younger self demanded he do it anyways. Rash, bold, uncaring of the consequences. He knew all the things that could go wrong here, but he wanted to do it anyways. The woman seemed to just pull it out from him, to bring back pieces of his ancient self. He wondered if that was as terrible a thing as he imagined, or if perhaps it would be good for him.

Now, he walked the Fade. His hands brushed along the pine trees and he heard the growing sounds of a clan up ahead. He shielded himself in shadows, making himself unknown to her in her dream. He had left her completely in control of her actions, though in a dream she would still have control of herself, it would not have been right any other way.

He walked until he saw her, the sun hitting her hair and lighting it up like fire, eyes silver on the outside and gold surrounding the pupil.

Someone called for the Keeper and she turned.

He grinned at the scene he had created, she was the Keeper she dreamt of becoming before the Breach, and Solas did not exist to her.

At one point she retired to her own space and he followed her, magic hiding him from her eyes. He took a seat near the bed and lounged, watching with hungry eyes.

A sound came from outside and she jumped, then went to investigate. She reached the entrance and Fen’Harel stepped through. He looked exactly like his younger self had, his face hadn’t changed much, and in a way that made it more fun, she would see him tomorrow and freeze after this dream. She would wonder why she dreamt of this tonight with his face attached to it. She would be none the wiser.

Solas looked at himself curiously, thick hair, exquisite clothes, magic that crackled around him. She stood before something close to a god, and he could see in her eyes that she knew it.

“Who are you?” She asked breathlessly and stepped back.

“Who do you think, Keeper?” His voice was rough and playful and Fen’an backed up again.

Fen’Harel closed the distance in one step, and she said, “The Dread Wolf,” her voice strained.

“Yes,” he growled and dragged his eyes along her body shamelessly. She stepped back again and the back of her knees hit the bed.

Solas could practically feel her heart beating in her chest, even from here, could feel her want in the air. His cock twitched in his trousers, but he ignored it for the moment, this part of the game was only beginning.

“What do you want?” She demanded, her voice only shaking slightly. She was very good.

“I have seen you. You intrigue me.” His hand reached up and a thumb brushed along her cheek.

She gasped, no doubt from the magic he had laced into the touch. “A Keeper protects her people from the Dread Wolf.”

“Is that so?” He asked, obviously amused, “Perhaps I should test you, then.”

He leaned in and caught her lips with his, the kiss was hard and made of fire that mixed with electricity, pulling groans from them both.

Solas watched with lidded eyes and licked his lips.

“Come now Keeper, protect your people from me, beg for my mercy.” He whispered as he kissed her neck, pausing only to leave marks, claiming her as his.

She only moaned and pressed into him.

“Beg,” he demanded again, this time more firmly.

“Please,” she gasped and was rewarded with a hand cupping her breast over her dress.

Solas brushed his hard cock from over his pants, light touches, teasing himself as he watched his younger version yank Fen’an’s slightly revealing dress down to free her breasts.

He took one nipple between his lips, rolling the other between his fingers, and Solas could practically feel himself flicking his tongue over her, teeth grazing it, sucking hard until her fingertips dug into his scalp and she cried out.

He moaned and with one hand unlaced the trousers that had become his length’s cage.

Fen’Harel pushed her too the bed, meeting no resistance, and pulled her dress off, ripping it when it halted. Fen’an didn’t seem to even care, her eyes full with lust and her chest heaving as she breathed.

He shed his shirt, slowly, and then took his boots off and crawled over the bed to her, holding himself above her.

They kissed again, her back arching into him and his fingers trailing down the taut stomach and pausing at her slit, barely touching, grazing against her. She bucked her hips and he pulled away and smirked down at her. “Imagine if they saw you like this, naked and spread out underneath the Dread Wolf, aching for my touch. Imagine what they would say about their Keeper then.”

She shuddered and moaned. Solas groaned with her and held his cock in his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Fen’Harel dipped his fingers into her and she cried out with pleasure as he slowly fucked her with only a few fingers, curling them, adding more, changing pace when she seemed close to cumming. Always keeping her on the edge but never enough to take her over.

Solas was breathing heavily now, his thumb dragging over the tip and giving himself slow strokes as he watched her writhe beneath him.

Fen’Harel suddenly stopped and stood. She whined in protest and he silenced her with a look. He licked his fingers clean and Solas imagined tasting her himself, making her cum on his tongue until she couldn’t take it anymore. He moaned loudly, tilting his head back as Fen’Harel slipped out of his own pants and stood before her. His cock hard and leaking like Solas’ own.

“My name, Keeper.” He said with a wolfish grin.

“Fen’Harel,” she pleaded and he came back to the bed, settling between her legs. “Beg. Loudly. Beg so that your whole clan can hear and know that you are mine and mine alone.” He growled, teasing her cunt with his cock, slowly running it up and down her, brushing against her clit every time.

“Fen’Harel, _please_!” She nearly screamed, and he slammed his length into her dripping hole.

Solas jerked himself faster now, keeping pace with them, listening to her say his name over and over and over, begging for more. Watching himself leave marks all over her pale skin, hands grabbing her hips so hard they may have left bruises in the shapes of his fingers.

He moaned her name as he thought about finding her tomorrow and seeing if the bruises had transcended the Fade, showing her that they here his fingers, that she was his.

He slammed deep into her cunt and she quivered and cried out as she came with him, and Solas shouted her name as he came in his hand, some landing on his chest in thick ropes.

He milked the last of the cum from his cock and imagined her licking him clean.

He sat there for a few moments, recovering, and allowing Fen’Harel to at least spend a moment with her, not wanting to make her feel abandoned, and then he waved the dream away, waking up in his own bed.

 

Across Haven, Fen’an woke, body far too hot for the weather outside, and still feeling every touch from the Dread Wolf.

The next day when she saw Solas, she felt like her cheeks were on fire. There he stood, her Dread Wolf look alike, with that same wolfish smile and hungry eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat and walked past, not able to even begin to handle a conversation with him when she was like this.


	2. Of Steeds and Gods

When they came back from the Hinterlands they wasted no time before going to Val Royeux, where two more joined the ranks of the Inquisition, an elf named Sera and a mage named Vivienne.

They had come back to Haven once again, only to see everyone settled in and take care of business in Haven for a day before going back out to the Hinterlands to meet the Grand Enchanter. Solas had gone for a walk, leaving his usual spot where he could be found in favor of the stables, where the Herald’s favorite steed stood.

A Bog Unicorn.

Affectionately named _Bagel._ Fen’an had originally wanted to call him Snowflake, until she was reminded that he was black and didn’t exactly look like a snowflake, no matter how… _unique_ he was. When asked why his name was Bagel, she simply said it was because, “He looks like he would eat bagels. You know. If he ate anything. Do you think he eats anything?”

Solas had to be the one to tell her no, this creature would likely not be eating bagels any time soon. Partly because bagels weren’t exactly the best food to feed your local horse related animal, but also because it was dead. A sword jutted through its head and it looked like skin stuck to bone, nothing like the many muscular steeds that she had at her disposal. And yet, she gasped in horror when anyone mentioned that perhaps Bagel should stay somewhere where the nobles and guests and new agents of the Inquisition would not see him right away.

And to make matters worse, Bagel seemed offended at the offer as well. Solas had come upon the two of them enough times to know that it was an odd relationship. Fen’an would brush his hair (completely ignoring and oblivious to the chunks that fell off) and tell him about where they were going next or what was happening around Haven, and he seemed to understand completely. Grunting, stomping the ground, shaking his head, and other signs of communication, at all the right moments.

Solas had come once again to see if there was some sort of demon in it, looking for an answer as to why it had seemed to _want_ to be a part of the Inquisition. But instead of fully being able to focus on Bagel he heard a voice carried on the wind. And he looked over to see Fen’an talking with Cassandra, who is hacking away at yet another straw dummy.

It started as harmless conversation, and Solas found his mind drifting to their walk in the Fade days ago. She still blushed when she saw him sometimes, and once he brought up the Dread Wolf to see her reaction and she could only stutter her way through a poor conversation and then fell quiet, her cheeks and ears bright red. It had been a very enjoyable sight for him.

And then it became not so harmless. He watched them argue over whether or not Cassandra was delightful. Flirting obscenely, right there in front of everyone. Right in front of him. Fen’an with that devilish smirk and a glint in her eyes that made him see another reason why her namesake was a wolf. It was like watching her hunt.

“I think I preferred you in the stocks,” Cassandra said, but Solas didn’t miss her ears turning red, even from this far away, and apparently neither did Fen’an.

“I wouldn’t object if you wanted to put me back there,” she winked and turned to go, giving a half wave to a bright red Cassandra, no doubt thinking about what the elf could have meant by that. Probably remembering scenes from the books she thought she hid so well.

He stalked off before she saw him watching and returned to his own small cabin, standing outside with his arms crossed while he thought about a lot of things. She had flirted with him not long ago, and when he had passed Josephine earlier the mere mention of Fen’an caused the slightest stutter in her voice. Others had seen Sera and her sitting at a table in the tavern, Fen’an cool and collected while she made the other elf laugh nervously and sputter her way through her jumbled thoughts with just a few words. Vivienne made no secret of her flirtations, but to speak of the Herald in such a way made his entire body stiffen. And while Cullen hadn’t had an opportunity to speak to her yet his eyes watched her like a hungry mutt watched a steak.

Yes. A mutt. The Templar human thinking he had a right to her? She looked more beautiful than any of the ‘goddesses’ Solas had seen in his time. And here stood the worst of the worst, watching her like he had some sort of chance with her. And there she went, waltzing around and saying pretty things to all those who will listen.

She deserved more than mutts like them.

She deserved someone purebred, wild, strong, a force to be reckoned with. If she was more beautiful than a goddess, then she deserved someone more than a god.

She deserved a wolf.

He balked at the thought, of actually desiring her in more than just a passing way. Of the jealousy that filled him. He needed put an end to it.

Of course it was then that Fen’an approached, smiling. She greeted him but he only mentioned an elven artifact in the Hinterlands he wished to find, not inviting anymore conversation. She blinked in surprise, but nodded. “Of course, we will look for it the next time we leave for the Hinterlands,” she promised, and hesitantly walked away, like she was waiting for him to call her back to talk more of the Fade and his travels.

But he refused. He would not let this happen. The game had finished, he had more important tasks at hand.

 

Despite her earlier encounter with Solas, which had been surprisingly cold, she still asked him to come with her. They had to meet the First Enchanter, Fiona, before something drastic happened. The Templars showed no sign of coming to help, and truth be told, she didn’t want it. It seemed to offend Cullen, and the mention of even talking to the mages made him so angry she wondered if he would storm out of the room. Cassandra said he’d had bad experiences with mages, and she had half a mind to tell her she’d met human mages who had grown up in Circles that had plenty of bad experiences with Templars, but she could see that it wouldn’t change a thing. It would always be, “Yes, but he had to deal with—” and when she said, “But mages deal with X, Y, Z, and way more,” the answer would just be demanding them to do better. Placing blame on the mages, saying that because of this or that they deserve what they get. Always apologizing for the Templars, always accusing the mages. She hated it, and thus didn’t talk about it anymore with those who she didn’t trust to understand the truth of these things.

Instead, since they asked her opinion, she gave it. The Templars were not the only ones who could provide aid. Besides, there was a _magic_ hole in the sky, what would the Templars do? Accuse it of blood magic? Recite the Chant at it? Who needed them?

Not many people liked that idea, but she wasn’t really interested in them liking her ideas. They asked for them, and they listened to her, followed her even, if they were going to do what she wanted to do, then she wasn’t going to think about making them happy before doing what she felt was right.

But now, walking around Redcliffe, it seemed that nobody had expected them. The scout had even said that Fiona hadn’t told the people they were coming. But this, it was almost eerie.

Bagel made a strangled noise as they walked through the streets. Cassandra had tried to convince her to leave him outside of Redcliffe, but Fen’an had refused. At first out of principle, she couldn’t just leave him out there all because other people didn’t like him, he had to show that he was indeed loved and part of the Inquisition. But now, it was less on proving something and more about the fact that she was not feeling very brave here.

“Fen’an, that is the inn we are supposed to go to. Perhaps you should leave…Bagel, here,” Cassandra said, eyeing him with a disgusted look.

There was a man talking about some “special ram” named Lord Woolsy (what an awful name for a ram, no matter how special), and was suddenly very concerned about leaving him here.

But she had no choice, no horses, even one as regal as Bagel, would be allowed inside. Even if the Herald wanted him to.

The mages didn’t help her case in trying to prove they knew what they were doing and were quite capable of doing the right thing. They had given complete control to Magister Alexus. Fen’an could literally not think of a worse thing to do.

All in all, things went very badly. Things were not going in the way of the Inquisition. There was nothing good about what had happened actually, she could not think of a single thing.

Well, other than meeting a very handsome mage by the name of Dorian. She had no interest in him of course (and doubted if he had any in her) but he enjoyed flirting, as did she, and he wanted to help. Though they had parted ways quickly, she strongly believed they would cross paths again.

Solas didn’t speak much at all to her for the rest of their time in the Hinterlands, he barely even thanked her when she found that artifact he’d been talking about. And he didn’t even want to go; she had to work to convince him when they moved onto the Storm Coast to find the Chargers (and a very handsome and tall qunari named Iron Bull. Fen’an was beginning to like the way this Inquisition was turning out, filled with attractive men and women to join her little band of adventurers. Not to mention the hunk named Cremacius Aclassi).

When they returned to Haven she found herself at the stables again. She had picked some flowers while they were in the Hinterlands and was now braiding them into Bagel’s mane. He playfully shook it out when it was finished and strut his stuff around the small pen.

She ignored the looks and murmurs from the citizens who saw them. Whether they were talking about the knife ear or the undead horse, she didn’t care. Bagel seemed to be the only one who would listen to her without giving her the cold shoulder (Solas), say something that required minutes of deciphering (Sera), ask her questions about nobles and wishes and political moves (Josie), and worst of all remind her that she was the Herald and a leader (literally everyone else). The only one who just let her talk was Bagel. And even then she wondered if it was only because of the sword stopped him from saying much else.

He pawed at the ground as she thought that, and she apologized, returning to pet him. Avoiding the rip in his flesh at the shoulder. He didn’t like being touched there for obvious reasons, and personally it wasn’t her favorite part of him.

She was stalling, as one did when everything became too much too fast for you to catch your breath. Day after day they came to her, begging for some form of action, and day after day she pushed back. “I need more time,” “I have unfinished business, if I die while rescuing the mages I would prefer knowing she got her ring back safely” “The people should like me more, I’m about to make a very unpopular decision”. Excuse after excuse. At first they seemed to understand, they even supported her. But the longer it went on the more impatient they became. So she finally was going to yield, but she just needed a few moments with Bagel. Just a few. She could feel normal. A girl just sitting with her horse. It was almost like being home, helping with the halla, but also completely different. Halla weren’t steeds like Bagel, and they were more…well alive. Even so, she felt like he understood what it was like to be stared at like this all the time, and as the Herald’s personal favorite mount, he also had a lot to live up to. And he still persevered, not even death stopping him from doing what he knew needed to be done.

His tail swung impatiently, as if saying, “Get a move on! We have real work to be done!” and she didn’t know what to say to that, finally out of excuses, and so she hopped over the fence and promised to see him soon.

And then she returned to the war room and discussed plans.

It didn’t seem to matter how obviously she had supported the mages, or the fact that she carried her own staff everywhere and used magic to defeat enemies, they still seemed shocked when she said that they would help the mages without hesitation. Cullen even tried to sway her mind, as if those murdering Templars were worth her time when mages were in danger. She thanked all of her gods every day for the fact that she had been born Dalish and not in an alienage where she would be discovered and forced into those prisons. Prisons where Templars like Cullen made the lives of mages worse than death.

Perhaps if they had time after saving the mages, she said, though she didn’t really care one way or the other.

It was then that Dorian came in and helped put their planning to rest. Of course his condition was that he went along as well, which Fen’an eagerly agreed to.

She had wanted to tell Solas she was leaving, but Bull and Sera pressed on, not even noticing, and they seemed like a bad pair to leave alone. She hesitated, looking over at the cabin where he stood outside, watching with narrowed eyes, and decided that perhaps there was another reason to continue on without saying anything. He looked downright pissed.

She hurried on after them to Redcliffe, trying to swat away the memory of his very angry face.

 

Redcliffe had not gone as planned. In fact, it had gone very unplanned. Time travel, self-sacrifice in her name, red lyrium, the Elder One, and a lot of other fucked up ominous things that made her really not want to see where that was headed. Which meant, of course, saving Celene. Which meant more war meetings.

She swore she was in meetings for at least half the day when they finally released her. Dorian had decided to stay, much to her liking, the others weren’t quite as exciting as he was with their flirting or banter, except maybe Sera who sometimes managed to be a little too much on both accounts. Dorian was perfect best friend material. And it helped that he would be staying right across from Solas.

Or. So she thought.

She went to visit Dorian, to see how he was settling in, when a very angry egg man stood in her way.

A handsome egg, but an egg that looked about ready to scramble himself, and she knew he believed it was her fault. Whether or not it was, she was about to find out.

“You took that madwoman and the horned beast to protect you while you left me here, worrying?” He hissed, “I have not slept since you left, I have not eaten, I have been consumed with anger and fear for you,” he waved his hand and she felt energy cackle through the air. She had a feeling he was holding back. “I should have been there to protect you, I could have stopped—”

“Would you have preferred three mages entering that place with me? Dorian could not be left, he was necessary, of course I had to go. Would you have taken away my warrior or my rouge? Can you pick locks? Bust down walls? Send a toxic cloud into the heart of our attackers? Wield a battleaxe like it is simply a dinner knife?” She spat back, angry at him for being angry at her when she had done the best thing given the circumstances.

He leaned closer, lip curling up into a sneer, “Do not underestimate me. I could have burned down the entire building if I had to. I could have stopped this time travel madness.”

She threw her head back and guffawed at that, “Solas it is wishful thinking! You could not have stopped it, none of us could, it is why it happened to begin with! Should I have brought Vivienne along with us? Perhaps four mages could have stopped this!” He stayed silent and simply glowered, and Fen’an sighed and ran a hand through short red hair. “It is the past, Solas. What has happened has happened. But if we do not act quickly, it will become our future. I have seen it. And you do not want that to be our future. We must move quickly, we simply do not have the time waste and talk about what I could have done, only what I can do now.”

She could see the muscles in his jaw working and he looked away, “You are right. I only wish that I had been there to help you through such a difficult mission, but I see your point. It would not have been a viable option for us.”

“Thank you,” she said calmly and touched his arm. He withdrew slightly, but not completely, and she supposed that was some progress.

She then saw Dorian step outside of his cabin and wave to her, “I must check on our new ally, see how he’s settling in. Do be nice, Solas.” She winked and left him, walking over to Dorian.

 

 _And now flirts with Dorian, right in front of me!_ He scowled as this new mutt laughed heartily and she smiled coyly. Another mere dog who believed himself worthy, and she allowed it! Did she even realize?

She had been right of course, that many mages on her team would have been unbalanced, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. And he certainly didn’t have to like this atrocious display now.

He scoffed and looked away when her glance turned to him, and after a few minutes of this over the top, bordering on lewd, conversation, she finally bid farewell and walked back to him.

He tried to seem disinterested, purely focused on the events of her travel. He had asked to make sure it was time travel, but of course she mentioned Dorian _. Oh well if Dorian is sure then of course it must be time travel!_ He scowled and quickly ended the conversation, leaving her to wander back to the war room to begin final preparations.

 

It was when the celebrating had started that it all went terribly wrong.

It was then that they met Cole, and Solas was not fooled, he could tell that he was off, and he knew Cole could see the wrongness in him too, but he hoped the boy would say nothing.

Not that it mattered if they didn’t make it through this.

He was the first to volunteer to go with Fen’an to try and beat back the Templars. There was a brief moment of victory, and then, as he had seen hundreds of times throughout history, it all got a lot worse.

After that it was just about getting back to the gates. Which went smoothly. And getting back to the Chantry would have been easy as well, but Fen’an couldn’t pass the sounds of screaming. She saved them all, putting herself in terrible danger, up in the fight with Iron Bull while Solas hung back with Sera, protecting her from herself.

But she saved them all and made it back as unscathed as one could expect from her.

She considered it to be successful, she knew there was not exactly a good way out, but there was always something you can do. She had made it through everything so far, she fell out of the goddamn hole in the sky, she could handle this shit.

Only now Cullen wass talking about a last stand. About doing what damage they can do before they die. And she was not on board with that.

 

 _I’d give myself up to save Haven. I’d die if it saved our people. I’d give up_ everything _for the life of one._ Solas mimicked her voice in his head while she suggested it. He knew she would, but he had hoped, inwardly begged, for her not to. The only one who can seal rifts, willing to die for shems who wouldn’t even notice.

It was hard not to be bitter about it.

“But your escape,” Cullen asked stupidly. She had already made up her mind to die here. To die for _something that is right_ , and his puppy eyes stared at her as he realized. _Ah, yes. He admires it. He sees it as a noble gesture. But it is only stupid, should she die here everyone would be doomed_. Yet Cullen, with his idiot mutt eyes, was praising her. “Perhaps you will surprise us and find a way”, but Solas knew that she was not capable of this alone. She could not cheat death like Bagel did.

At least not on her own.

 

They were running back to the gates, interrupted in their plan to bring the mountain down, she had told them to run, that she’d be right behind, and stupidly they had listened. But something knocked her to the ground, and when Solas turned to make sure she followed he skid to a stop, her name on his lips, but Bull’s arm, thick as a tree trunk, rammed into his waist and lifted him over his shoulder, knocking the wind from him. He shouted for Bull to put him down, that Fen’an was back there, but Bull said something about how if she was strong enough to make it, she would make it out.

Solas wasn’t so sure.

 

“Whatever you are, I am not afraid!” She straightened up, feeling only courage and power, despite the situation. There was no fear left in her.

He began some “I’m the powerful god creature and you’re the puny mortal and I will win,” speech, but it was when he said, “you will kneel,” that she really snapped to attention.

Fen’an knelt for no one.

She would not yield for anyone. Never. “You’ll…you’ll get nothing out of me!” She yelled, so angry that she could barely think straight, let alone speak or come up with a witty comeback.

He spoke of an Anchor, of assaulting the heavens, of it being stolen from him. By her. Her hand burned, the pain almost unbearable. She asked what it was, and he spoke of human gods and thrones and while most of it made sense, it was a little too stressful a situation to understand fully human history and religion.

But she understood the gist.

He believed himself a god, and he would prove it the way human gods often do. Killing thousands, ruthless actions, disease, and overall miserableness. Typical of a human god, which was perhaps the tipping point in her ability to handle this foolish speech.

She grabbed a sword, not exactly her weapon of choice, but Solas would joke about how she used her staff the same way half the time.

Solas.

Her chest hurt and she pushed him from her mind. This was for him, for all of them, he would make it, she was sure. She had stalled long enough for them to make it, at least to safety. He, Bull, and Sera would make it with the rest of them, they had to.

It was then a flare, bright orange flame, off in the distance, it flashed in the sky. And she felt her body relax, tense no longer. They were safe, her people were safe. And she could do now what she had planned to do.

“You expect me to fight, but that is not why I kept you talking. Enjoy your victory. Here’s your prize!” And she kicked the wheel and watched the rock sail overhead. She closed her eyes. This was her time. She had done right. She had held out. And now, now she could rest.

 

She stood, every bone in her body protesting, aching. Her very soul crying out to be left alone, to lie back in the snow and just be free from it all.

But she had lived, she had survived, and after getting so far and doing so much, if she gave up now how could she believe she had done the best she could?

She limped to the tunnel, clutching her side, and walked for what must have been miles before she saw the end.

Of course, blocking the end there had to be despair demons.

It was instinct, she barely had the energy to move let alone fight, and she raised her hand like she would to close a rift, instead however it was like opening one. But not really at all. It was more like when she disrupted one in battle, before she could close it, stunning or killing the demons who poured from it.

They crumbled to the ground and vanished from her world. She stood and waited until the rift disappeared as well, to make sure it truly was safe enough to leave without demons popping out to follow her, and continued on.

Once outside again, she saw a broken wagon in the snow. Blood as well, but after all that had happened it was not nearly as much as she expected.

She followed broken bits of wood and blood, perhaps not all was lost, Perhaps she could catch up to them.

Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. She lurched forward, going toward the sound.

She had the heart of a wolf, they would not betray one of their own now.

 

Solas watched her stumble through the snow, he had slipped away after swearing to himself that he could feel her presence in the air again. He moved quickly, silently through the snow, and there he saw Fen’an, holding her side and walking unevenly, obviously in pain but alive. And he howled, imitating a wolf perfectly. Guiding her to him.

 

Hours. She had been walking for hours, the wind was blowing directly at her, pushing her back, and the snow was so high it reached her thighs. She was only grateful that she was wearing her thickest robes that day.

A wolf howled, and again she turned toward it, trusting it completely.

The wind had calmed now, and the wolves howled more frequently. She come upon another fire pit, only this time it still had embers in it. She moved as quickly as her feet would allow in the snow, she must make it, she was so close now. Just between those cliffs.

She fell to her knees when she heard someone say, “There! It’s her!”

And then Cassandra said, “Thank the Maker!” As she ran over to her.

Fen’an would have laughed once again at the idea of a human god protecting some pathetic elven mage, but she didn’t have the energy.

 

Solas could hear the wolves he had persuaded to guide her. They called her more and more frequently as she grew near, and his heart beat in his chest. Alive. And almost here. Almost safe.

“Cassandra,” he said smoothly, taking a tone of urgency but also trying to make it clear it wasn’t _personal_ involvement. Just something for the best on the Inquisition. For all of Thedas. “We must send another search party out. I will lead on myself if it means finding the Herald, she is the only one who can seal rifts, most likely the only one who can end all of this. We must find her.”

“I know, Solas, I have already gathered a few men together and I am leading it. We must not stop looking for her, she must find her way back here. The Maker would not abandon us now.”

Ah yes. Religious passion. Surely it was he Maker who kept her alive, who guided her back. Yes. Of course.

But Solas said nothing. Fen’an had survived herself and he had helped her find her way back to him, if Cassandra needed to believe it was the Maker, so be it, as long as it brought Fen’an back.

He frowned at that thought and reasoned with himself over why he would think that. She is, after all, the one with the mark on her hand and the only one who can do this. He needed her back solely for that purpose. He could not falter now, not simply because she spoke of stealing his heart and he started wondering if it was possible.

Though it is one thing to say that when she was not around, when Solas still hadn’t seen her after being almost certain she was lost. It was easy to convince even himself that the truth was simply that she was interesting, that she was a game. That she meant nothing. It was a completely other thing to try and say that again when Cassandra came back, Fen’an’s arm draped over her shoulder and the dark haired woman half dragging the elf through the thick snow, calling for healers.

Yes, that was a much harder lie to swallow.

 

She spoke to Solas shortly after the large human bonding of singing one of their religious songs (it was very pretty of course, most of them are, but it was so wrapped up in metaphors and meanings that she didn’t understand. Humans always seemed to see their culture, their religion, their appearance, their everything, as default. Fen’an tried, of course, not to take it personally, but it was getting quite irksome. If she had sung a Dalish song, she would have gotten strange looks, question after question on its meaning, no matter how pretty sounding, and they would have just gone on to sing another one of their songs to show her what they were like, as if she hadn’t heard them all already. What they thought of as sharing their culture with her, she found to be quite unnecessary and, well, pretentious, not to mention irritating). Despite the lack of a connection she had with the song itself, she couldn’t help but notice the look in her comrades’ eyes, her friends filled with hope and fire and faith in their cause. Perhaps she didn’t find a spiritual connection to the music, but she felt tears nearly form in her eyes at the sight of her friends forming together. Friends that rarely, if ever, agreed, were now all but holding hands and giving each other big, teary eyed hugs and braiding each other’s hair.

And after this, when all had quieted down and she was able to move away from the crowd without any of them telling her to rest or bringing business to her, she found Solas.

She had hoped for something normal, something relaxing or calm or just small talk really. Something that helped distract her from the quite awful predicament they were in now, in the snow without shelter or much food. Instead, he jumped right into talking about the orb Corypheus used and of how when the humans discovered it was of elvish origin that they would likely hate the elves even more than they did now. She agreed but also added that no matter what, they would have found a way to blame the elves anyways.

He simply nodded and then once again spoke of her position as a leader, making her hold back a groan and thought to herself that perhaps it would have been better if she stayed buried in the snow.

He told her how to find a new home. A place in the north, safe and large enough to protect them all.

And when she saw it, she had to agree. It was most definitely a home worthy of their cause. A hold surrounded by the mountains, built from cold stone, truly a fortress that was easy to protect, or at the very least it would be easy to see the enemy approach.

The only way that she could describe it was less that it had been built in the mountains, but that the mountains had been built around it.

There would not be another Haven. Not here.

Not at Skyhold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fen'an is really in touch with her history and background and while this chapter was a little more heavy on how she feels about templars and her Dalish origin than most of the others will be, it is going to be a thing so if you're really not into that I'm sorry?? This story won't necessarily focus on those things but also, like, this isn't a fluff story, it talks about a lot of societal issues brought up in the game so if you really hate when people talk about that this is a little bit of a warning that it may not be the fic for you. Of course that's not the focus but I don't dance around it either and it is a part of who the character is.  
> Anyways, hope you guys are digging it, I'm trying to work on like the fifth chapter so I probably will wait another week or so before posting the next because I waited so long so now I've gotta catch up in the game to where I stopped writing so I can take notes and shit. I'm trying to speed up the pre trespasser part cause you likely already know the general stuff, so sorry if the pacing is weird while we settle in. Let me know what you're thinking??


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